Stories Live On Forever
by Ro of Ravens
Summary: In the middle of a harsh leaf-bare snowstorm, Flamepaw finds scarce prey and decides to bury it, saving it for himself later. It's only when he is assigned a duty at the elders' den and the elders tell him a story that he realizes the grave mistake he made. A story that changed his decision, and perhaps his life forever. –Challenge for MuffinClan–


**Stories Live On Forever**

It was the middle of leaf-bare in the Clans. In this particular day, the sky was dull and grey, the air was crisp and chilling, and the ground was blanketed with a thick layer of damp, slushy snow which had mixed in with rain from the night before.

A young dark ginger tomcat trudged through the thick snow, shaking his paws once in a while. He hissed in frustration and muttered under his breath, having to deal with this. His limbs were wet, his paws numb from the cold, and his stomach was growling in hunger. This was always a difficult season to cope with. Starving, deaths, sickness, and more aggression between the Clans as well.

The ginger apprentice pricked his ears as his sharp hearing detected a small animal beneath the layer of snow. He dug with his front paws and moved aside all the fallen snow, exhaling with delight as he found a burrow. He could hear the heartbeats and faint scurrying of tiny paws as he pressed close to the ground. He suddenly lashed unsheathed claws in and felt a creature go limp under his paws. Triumphant, the tom pulled his reward out of its burrow and saw that it was a grey-brown rodent.

He looked back at his camp and then up at the sky. Flecks of snow were beginning to fall again. The trudge wouldn't be too far back, but his empty stomach and lack of energy reminded him that he needed to eat. Without putting it in the fresh-kill pile first, the young tom buried it beside a thick, gnarly tree, and promised himself he would come back and eat it later.

After a difficult walk back, a grey tabby she-cat greeted him at the camp. He recognized her as his mentor, Willowtail, a stern look on her face.

"What is it, Willowtail?" the ginger tom asked impatiently. "Remember I still have to fix up the elders' beddings." _And give them prey_, he added silently, but thought nothing much of it.

"I thought you went hunting, Flamepaw." Willowtail stared at her apprentice. "You didn't catch anything? That's strange, you're normally a great hunter."

Flamepaw just shook his head and tapped his tail. "No, it's leaf-bare, remember? Prey is scarce and hard to find," he lied, wanting to get away as quick as possible.

The grey she-cat took one last look at him and sighed. "Alright, then. You can go to the elders' den now. I'll tell Oakstar to arrange another hunting patrol."

Flamepaw nodded hurriedly and quickly dashed off. He arrived at the elders' den and padded inside, beginning to add some more dry moss to the elders' nests like he had many times before. He gritted his teeth and tried to work fast, wanting to be in his den, asleep, as soon as possible.

"Hey, Flamepaw," one of the elders rasped. Flamepaw sighed and looked up to meet the eyes of a brown tom. "Where's that prey you promised to catch for us? We're gettin' quite hungry and a meal would be nice."

"I, uh, I-I didn't catch any, sorry," Flamepaw lied quickly, thinking about the prey he buried earlier for himself. Barkwhisker mumbled something and gave a small nod.

"Well, alright. That's fine. I know it's hard to catch a meal in these weathers, huh?" he meowed. "Flamepaw?"

"What is it, Barkwhisker?"

Barkwhisker replied, "You want to hear a story? You still got some time left, yeah, young 'un?"

Flamepaw groaned mentally. "Actually, Barkwhisker, I'd rather not. I've still got a lot of things to do and I — "

"Come on, you don't seem busy, besides, the young cats always love stories," another elder purred, a golden she-cat named Morningsong.

_Yeah, kits, not apprentices like me_, Flamepaw thought with an inward scowl. But if he was rude in any way, he would get punished, so he just decided to go along with it and not actually pay attention. Besides, the elders wouldn't know and they'd be content.

"Alright, then," the ginger tom replied.

"Great," mewed Barkwhisker, shifting in his nest to get a more comfortable position. "Seeing as how it's snowin' right now, I have a good story for today." He cleared his throat and began, "Once, there was a young apprentice, about your age, Flamepaw. He was really brave, courageous, good at hunting and fighting. You see, it was leaf-bare, jus' like right now. There was a big snowstorm then, and the whole landscape was covered in a thick layer of snow, the north winds were rattling the trees and bringing hunger to the Clans."

Flamepaw nodded to show he was listening. And in fact, he couldn't help but listen, although that wasn't what he originally planned. That apprentice in the story kind of reminded him of himself so far.

"So the prey was scarce and cats were starvin', dyin'," Barkwhisker continued in a raspy voice, his amber eyes dark. "That apprentice was on a hunting patrol that day. By a stroke of luck, he found two plump squirrels who was asleep in its nest in a tree. He killed 'em off easily, and it was one of the few pieces of prey the starving Clan would have." Barkwhisker lowered his gaze. Flamepaw pricked his ears, genuinely interested.

"And then what happened?" he urged.

The elderly tom sighed, a cloud of mist forming as his warm breath collided with the cold air. "Well, that apprentice ate the squirrels for himself. Of course, it was against the code to do that, but in times of struggles when you could die any moment, many cats get selfish." Flamepaw suddenly felt a pang of guilt strike him and he flattened his ears, lowering his gaze. "He walked back to camp, now well-fed and not hungry anymore. He honestly thought it wouldn't make that big of an impact, but he was wrong. There were kits and elders who were on the verge of death because they didn't have a meal. Just a few bites that could save 'em. But as he padded into the camp, he saw a crowd of his Clanmates gathered in the center, weeping for the ones they just lost, the ones that died of hunger, and he felt worse than he ever did before. He was overwhelmed by guilt, and he knew it was his fault, but there was no way to change that now."

Flamepaw's breathing became ragged and he suddenly looked at Barkwhisker's and Morningsong's frail, thin figures. Their trembling bodies as they just heaved themselves up. Their dull eyes, lacking of life and energy. He then imagined them limp, lifeless, lying on the ground, gone forever.

"What's wrong, Flamepaw?" Morningsong asked, seeing the apprentice's look of horror and regret.

"I-I…" Flamepaw stuttered. "I think I did catch some prey, actually. L-Let me get some for you from the fresh-kill pile."

"No, we can get it ourselves if you really don't want to, Flamepaw, it's — " Barkwhisker began, but got interrupted by Flamepaw.

"Please," he said, his eyes sincere. "I insist." The apprentice quickly darted away, trotting to the edge of camp and digging up the two squirrels he'd buried earlier, originally meant for himself. As his jaws grasped the now cold fur of the small creatures, he vowed he would never do that again, not after the short story Barkfeather told him. He would never be that selfish again.

"Here you are," Flamepaw mewed, dropping the two squirrels at the elders' paws. Morningsong looked down in surprise.

"Two? Are you sure you don't want one for yourself? You look awfully hungry too," she commented.

"No, I'm fine. Really," the ginger tom replied confidently.

He backed away out of the elders' den with a last quiet "goodbye", feeling his paws touch the snow again. But as he looked up, the sun was beginning to peek out from behind the pale grey clouds. The snow stopped falling. The golden rays of sunshine made the snow seem fluffy, sparkling like flecks, fragments of a rainbow. Flamepaw took a last glance at the elders' den before heading away, and he noticed Barkwhisker, a faint, genuine smile appearing on his face as he suddenly looked up to meet his gaze.

And Flamepaw smiled back.

* * *

**A/N: This has been yet another MuffinClan challenge.**


End file.
